#i make. so much conscious effort to be careful with things that are expensive and important. and then i crush my cellphone into a fine glass

[leolaroot]

trying very hard to be brave and mature but yes i did in fact break my phone again and its not turning on anymore and my phone is broken and its my fault and this is the third "Break down and cry" level phone accident in the past two weeks and i think i want someone to shoot my skull and brain over and over with a gun that shoots bullets

[mayuichi]

“You want to spend our money on... that?„

Scaramouche x Reader. No warning. No real distinction in between Scaramouche and Wanderer here, I usually both call them Scaramouche so...

Official art from Genshin Impact.

Walking around Inazuma, he kept mumbling in annoyance to the reason you both are here. A huge part of it is your fault, for wanting to go in vacation there. He kept refusing until Nahida chimed in.

“You should, though. It'd be a good way to relax and see your homeland.„ were her exact words. But none of you expected it to be so crowded in early December.

Which is why he is pissed off now. He glanced over you, taking your hand in a possessive gesture. Or perhaps he was scared you'd lose yourself. In any case, you appreciated it.

Hurrying you in a quiet street, he sighed and turned to you. “When will we go back to the hotel? I'm tired of hearing people.„ he frowned when you rolled your eyes.

You wanted to tell him you weren't about to go home yet, since there was so much you wanted to see. “Not soon. Plus, Nahida asked-„

Your words faded in your mind when you realized how he got closer to you, his nose practically touching yours. At your sudden silence, he smirked and cupped your chin. “Nahida what ? Go on. Don't mind my closeness.„

He enjoyed seeing you at a lost of words, and you knew this. Yet, you gulped. “Nahida... She asked for... For a souvenir... You know..?„

He didn't answered, instead, he caressed your cheek with his thumb. You became self conscious of your flushed cheeks and tried to look away.

“Don't look away, idiot. Keep your eyes on me.„ but you couldn't. So he chuckled and pressed his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, as he squeezed you tightly against him.

He craved for you, you knew it. He was so possessive, so jealous over every little thing. but he took care of you and protected you. You had to gently push him away so you could catch your breath. It made him laugh to see your pathetic expression now.

“I'll make an effort, just for you. But you better repay me when we'll be alone, got it?„ he winked, and it made your state worst. You nudged against him. You took a deep breath and took his hand.

Going back in the busy streets, there was plenty your wanted to buy, but yet, you couldn't just get everything. You may have saved a lot of moras for this, it'd be way too expensive.

You let yourself some time to think, and instead decided to buy Nahida her souvenir. Perhaps a mug would be fine... But it wasn't really something you wanted to give her.

Wondering what you could offer her, your eyes spotted a stand a little left out, with a huge amount of snow globes. You rushed over to inspect all of them. They were all so adorable.

To more classic ones with just a few trees, to some villages, forest animals or just snowmen. There was so many interesting you. You called out for Scaramouche, making him come near you.

When he saw those snow globes, he raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “You want to spend our money on... that?„ he found little to no interest in it. He couldn't believe that's what you were into.

Yet, when you made those sad puppy eyes, he sighed and crossed his arms. “... Fine, but stop looking so sad. How many do you want?„

He would've slapped you when you almost yelled you wanted them all. If you weren't his lover, he would've definitely did. But he cared and couldn't let you be hurt.

So he just shook his head in disappointment; yet that was the whole reason why he loved you. So it wasn't so bad. He wasn't truly disappointed and you knew it.

He took out his wallet and paid for it all, carrying the bag as he walked off with you. He squeezed your hand gently, walking across the streets as he leaned to whisper.

“You better repay me tonight if you don't want to get punished.„

/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ mayuichi's property. do not repost, copy or translate without permission.

[soft-persephone]

I won’t be home for Christmas (Another Intentional Accident)

Lots of kisses and fluff // masterlist // WC: 2.7k

AN: Happy Holidays! I hope you all enjoy!

Nick was nervous.

He hadn’t done a clean shave since he started dating you. He wasn’t the most self conscious man in the world. As long as he and his clothes were clean and comfortable, he didn’t worry about it what he looked like too much.

But women were diffierent. Especially the ones you were in a relationship with.

Even if he didn’t care, they most oftentimes did. Caroline sure as hell did. He always ended up trying harder for her. Wearing certain shirts for her, ironing them more often than he would, not because he wanted to, but because he wanted to avoid the fight she’d most likely cause over it if he didn’t.

You made a comment if his shirt was dirty or if it had a hole in it, but you never pushed for him to wear anything that made him uncomfortable. In fact, you had a knack for buying him better versions of things he already liked.

For his birthday, you had brought him a more durable, expensive, maroon hoodie! The fabric was so damn buttery soft and it was heavy in the way expensive clothes were!

You were just amazing like that.

So, in an effort to remain the best boyfriend ever, he planned to surprise you a week before Christmas.

He invited a few of your close friends, and Winston, but that was only because they’d both have to drive over to Chicago in a few days so they’d make it home. That way, he also wouldn’t have to worry about missing a flight. They’d made the drive before when they were younger more than a few times, so it wansnt a big deal.

“Do you even have a key Nick?” Winston huffed.

“How are we supposed to get in? What kind of surprise is this?”

Nick proceeded to ignore Winston’s comment and open the door.

“Nick!” Natalie squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Hey, Natalie.” Nick laughed through his nose with a soft huff, putting on just as gentle of a polite smile.

All your friends were so touchy. It made sense because so were you. You always locked your arms with his on a walk. Opted to hold his hand whenever possible. If his face itched, you beat him to it, scratching the spot for him, insisting that your nails made a more satisfying scratch.

You loved his beard.

Placing your face against his if he wanted to show you something, whether he was pointing at something in public, showing you something on his phone or laptop, you stood as close as possible, placing your cheek on his. You always lingered just a moment longer, smiling against his face as you pulled his lips to match.

He knows he can’t kiss without touching your face in some way, or pulling you by your neck to come closer, but you couldn’t kiss him without kissing him everywhere. Every corner of his checks and down along the stubble or hairs on his neck.

Which is the main source of his nervousness today, he shaved his face!

His mom wasn’t always fond of his facial hair, claiming it ruined pictures and he was hiding his beautiful face.

But what if you didn’t like him without his beard? What if you started acting funny or stopped touching him?

He didn’t grow up in a touchy feely household.

He can count the number of times his father hugged him by hand. After a certain age, especially after his father left, he remembers his mom telling him he had to be a big boy. That he had to be brave and strong and be the man of the house now. That he had to look after her and his brother from now on.

Most of the hugs he ever had in life were from Jaime. Making sure he was alright or he didn’t cry too much in school, so he wouldn’t get beat up for it.

He liked your little touches. He liked how you couldn’t do anything or be near him without touching his shoulder or rubbing at his back at least once before passing by.

“Did you bring everything Nick?” Careesha asked, before enveloping him in a similar embrace and placing a warm cup of hot chocolate in his hand.

“I did!” He nodded and raised the wrapped gift for you in his hand.

“Perfect!” He watched as Natalie and Careesha jumped around and squealed with delight. You and your friends were definitely three of a kind.

“How’s work?”

“Any plans for the holidays?”

“Are you sure either of you aren’t going to bite the bullet and take the other hook for the holidays?”

“Reesha,” Natalie deadpanned, “no one’s trying to be like you and Xaviar anytime soon.”

“You don’t know what they want! They might! It’s their decision!” Reesha huffed through puffed cheeks.

“I don’t know what our future looks like right now,” Nick started with a hand on the back of his neck, “but I do know I’m gonna miss her while I’m home for Christmas.”

“Ugh, you guys are making me sick. I’m going to find more whisky for my hot coco.” Winston scoffed and headed off to the kitchen.

Nick sighed, “please, excuse my friend, Winston Bishop.” He briefly introduced, “his girlfriend dumped him before we flew out here.”

They shared a look and a couple of awkward smiles.

“Eek,” Natalie squeezed, “she’s almost here!”

Nicks eyebrows scrunched in confusion, “how do you know? Did she text or something?”

“No, I just checked her location.”

“From what?” Nick blinked.

A strange feeling started churning in his belly.

“Oh yeah,” Careesha nodded, “Nick isn’t a smart phone guy, remember? She said he likes to stay unplugged and grounded in reality?” She looked at him with a questioning smile.

“Uh, yeah.” Nick licked his lips, “something like that.”

Is that what you were telling your friends? You left out his distaste and constant distrust for the government and his fear of data tracking as well as the impending doom of mankind for choosing convenience over old fashioned know-how and basic human companionship. Also the death of community and togetherness in America and most likely the world. . . But that was fine.

Your version means less questions and arguments he’d have with everyone. You truly were a gift.

“There’s a find my iPhone app, you can share your location with certain friends, so now we can always know where each other are.”

Nick swallowed and tried not to grit his teeth.

He spends a lot of time with you.

If your friends are always tracking you, And that app is always tracking you, the government and who knows else is also tracking you! That means they are also tracking him! They probably listen too!

All those conversations he’d had with you. .

How many people know about—

The doorbell rang.

Nick’s anger was quickly buried with a wave of joy.

You were here!

“Okay, mama, I’ll call you later.”

Nick stuffed his hands in his pockets and bounced on his heels to stay quiet.

“Wha—“

“Surprise!”

“Winston!”

“Oh my god,” He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. “That girl that Nick’s been laying around with!” He fake gasped.

“Shut up,” you hugged him back with a smile, “I know you know my name.”

“Fuck, Winston,” Nick pulled you into his chest by your arm, “what about me huh? Your actual boyfriend?”

He firmly gripped your cheeks with one hand, playfully squeezing a little tighter and letting go. His smile wavered a bit. Your cheeks were cold. You had no scarf, or hat. . .

Fuck. . .

You were about as dumb as he was.

“Where’s your hat? Or scarf? Anything?” He fussed over you. As he helped you take your coat off, he rubbed the material in his hands.

This coat wasn’t thick enough.

And it’s fucking windy as hell and you don’t even have a scarf or hat. No gloves or mittens either!

“I’ll be alright.” You smiled.

Still holding onto your cheeks, he pulled you in for a kiss. Not failing to slip his tongue inside. He needed to taste you, feel your mouth on his, and commit the warm plushness of your lips and every corner of your mouth to memory before he leaves.

“No, it’s not.” He broke the kiss, speaking lowly in your face. His tone making butterflies in your stomach.

You couldn’t really speak, your chest puffed up and down, breathless from the kiss as well as the air and the cold. Perhaps he was right, but you had no idea where to shop for warm things or what makes a coat warmer compared to others. What day do you wear a hat or gloves or neither?

He brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“You know what I thought of all winter?” You shook your head, opting only to smile at him with your lips slightly parted. If you kept looking at him like that, he swore he was going to kiss you again, “whether your coat was warm enough? Did you have the right gloves? Did you remember what to do to your car the night before? Praying, that ice wouldn’t be on the road on the days you have to drive to work.”

“I know,” you placed a hand on top of his, rubbing at his fingers while his kept brushing your cheek, “I’m trying. I really am.”

You were listening to him, but from how wide and glossy your eyes were, he knew you weren’t, not really.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“Because you're starting and you're half listening to me.” He laughed which made you laugh too.

“You shaved.” You placed your hands on his cheek now, and he couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious. You’re standing so close to one another, and now you're both holding onto each other's faces like a couple of idiots, lovesick idiots in puppy love.

He’d rather have done this alone now. Without an audience.

“I like it.” You grinned.

“Yeah?” He couldn’t help the hope that tinged his voice.

“Yeah!” You kissed him again. Slowly, and thoroughly, so tender and soft. Leaving him to bask in the feeling. He always lost track of time and every moment when you were leading a kiss. Nothing and everything felt so intense at the same time. “I’m still going to miss your beard but this is. . Different! In a good way!”

“Really?” Now it felt like you were laying it on a bit thick.

“It’s like,” you weren’t looking at him now. Your eyes dart wildly at everything before choosing to look down. He lifted your face with a finger, making you laugh dotly in his face. The feeling of it danced across his nose and cheeks. “It makes everything warmer.. hotter. It feels like everything is even closer than before. Like, I’m really feeling all of you.”

He kissed you again. Harder than before.

Not caring about who's around or who’s in the room.

And there it was.

Without the scratch of his beard you felt all of him. The heat of his cheeks on yours. You could actually feel all of the kiss and not be distracted by the scratchy feeling. You could focus on how hot and wet his mouth is. The way his tongue swept across yours, leaving you with no choice but to follow his pace. To allow him to consume every part of you. Leaving a strong want and desire to flood your senses.

“Alright, you two are seriously killing the vibe.”

“Oh,” you heaved with a smile, “hey Winston.”

Winston gave a fake smile before frowning.

“Wrap it up you two. You can have sex later.”

“Speaking of,” Nick started, “I got you something.”

Nick handed you a present wrapped in Newspaper. It had a bow made out of industrial rope.

“You're so environmentally conscious.” You smiled as you unwrapped the gift.

“If you mean cheap, with the best repurposing skills you’ve ever seen, I’ll take it.”

“Oh, Nick.” You smiled. Tears budded at your eyes. You didn’t have time to laugh at his joke before seeing what he had gotten you.

It was a giant cream wool and cashmere scarf, and a matching hat that was lined with silk.

They were so warm.

“Nick you shouldn’t have.” You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight.

“And let you freeze to death when I’m not around?” He scoffed with a smile. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay, enough!” Natalie shoved Nick to the side and hugged you. “We’ve let you two have your moment long enough. There’s a room full of people that love you too!”

Everyone had a great time.

Winston got a little crazy after having to draw 4, four times in a row. Careesha claimed you were cheating, after you won three times in a row, but shenanigans aside, it was amazing. Neither of you would have changed this night for anything else in the world.

Nick went out to the balcony.

He imagined you having a small quiet time out here, in the morning time before you went to work.

“What are you doing out here?” You had put on the scarf and hat the moment you opened it.

You had your coat on now.

Not being able to help himself. He paws at the scarf on your necks maneuvering it in a way where it covers your head and your neck.

“Better?” He smiled.

“Oh my goodness you're a winter genius!”

“Well I was born and raised in Chicago.” He took the other cup of hot chocolate out fontour hand that you brought out for him.

“This spiked stuff is good.”

“Really?” Your eyes sparkled at him and he laughed.

“Absolutely,” he took another sip, “it’s the right amount of whiskey to coco and milk or whatever you used. All the proportions taste right.”

“It’s my recipe!” You beamed at him. “It’s the perfect amino of whisky, a little Baileys, and then regular hot chocolate stuff, but I also chop up some chocolate with the coco powder.”

“It’s so good! You should consider quitting a lawyer and becoming a bartender! I think you’d have a bright future.” He said seriously.

“Well I always wanted to change my career in the middle of all the success and fortune for another one.” You said just as seriously.

You both laughed and he wrapped an arm around you.

You both admired the city lights and falling snow.

Fuck. . . He wasn’t going to make it home for the holidays again. There’s always next year.

He pulled out his phone and dialed his mom’s number.

“Heeey, Ma,” he drawled. Biting back his smile so she couldn’t hear how happy he was, “I missed my flight again.”

He pulled the phone from his ear as she started yelling and asking questions.

“No, everything’s booked up or canceled, now.”

You pinched his cheek, and he bit your finger before you could pull it away. You let out a little scream of a laugh and he had to grab you and cover your mouth, almost making him laugh out loud too!

“Alright, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll do better next year. . . love you too.”

“Nick—“

“—Let’s spend Christmas together.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes were watery and he kissed away your tears.

“Yeah, you big crybaby,” he smiled and kissed you, “let’s do this. Let’s spend Christmas together. Just the two of us.”

“I’ve never had Christmas without my family before.” You sniffled.

“I know, I know,” he rubbed your shoulders. “We don’t have to if you—“

“—no I do!” You cut him off with a kiss. “I want to spend Christmas with you too!”

“Yeah?”

“I’m a big girl.” He wiped your last tear with his thumb. “I can handle a few days without seeing them.

Nick kissed you one more time.

“What about Winston?” You asked.

“Oh,” Nick blinked. “He probably already left without me.”

You blinked back at him for a moment.

“You're probably right.”

He kissed you again.

“Can you please stop bringing up Winston when I’m kissing you?”

Tags: @notapradagurl7 @megamindsecretlair @headcannonxgalore @cottonpuffmouse @crispysublimecupcake @jellyreblogs @blowmymbackout

First time doing this tag thing. Let me know if you wanna be added I guess💀

[femmefatalevibe]

Hi there femme💌.

Do you have any advice on how to deal with people who judge you for " trying to hard "?

I observed that people who don't pay attention to the way they look, they way they speak, or put any effort into their appearance in general, tend to be judgmental of those who like to look after themselves and look their best. I think this comes from a point of feeling inferior or bad that they don't put much effort into their image, mannerism, persona, so they try to make themselves feel better by dragging others down. Others might really feel like it's a waste of time or money to invest in anything related to clothes, self care , good diet etc, and think they're superior because they Don't waste money.

For example, I wear perfume everyday and I was told that nobody cares about they way I smell so why I'm wasting money on fragrances. I don't do it so others will tell me I smell good, I do it so I can smell my perfume around me. Or that I dress too elegantly when I could just wear some jeans with t shirt and sport shoes.

I'm honestly so tired of this ... and it's not men who told me this , but women. Looking after yourself is seen by some women as trying too hard to get a man's attention, or that it's for your own egocentric desires.

I don't live in the most expensive part of the city and I'm honestly so tired of these people's mentality. Even my coworkers are starting to annoy me because they act rude, they have a "street vocabulary ", are always gossiping and I don't really partake in their discussions, maybe that's why I keep hearing bad things about myself.

Hi love! I completely agree with your observations and insights regarding why people criticize those who take pleasure in diligently curating their appearance for "trying too hard" because it makes them feel self-conscious.

I think it's best to remember that when they say these negative sentiments to you, they're addressing you like they're talking to a mirror. You're merely in the way. Their words are reflections of their own inner critics. These sentiments have nothing to do with you. If you say anything at all, just say: "You're right" to shut the negativity down and provide these people with the validation they desperately need to hear. Remain unbothered by others' preoccupations with your ways of indulging in self-care. Maybe they should redirect some of the energy they utilize to resent your decisions to appease theirs.

Always remember: Those who are successful in an area of life feel no need to criticize those behind them on their journey – they either offer support or are too preoccupied with their own lives to notice those still finding their way to the next level of their lives.

Hope this helps xx

[stellagibs0ns]

bedannibal hurt/comfort: maybe something where bedelia has her period and is having some unusually bad cramps/feeling miserable? and being very resistant to any care because she's so used to dealing with things on her own

omg love <3

—

Bedelia makes a conscious effort not to ask people for their help. That makes things transactional, and eventually, they will want something in return. Even down to the smallest favours.

Her period, thankfully, had arrived in the middle of the day. If she’d bled onto the expensive sheets of the bed, she would’ve been thoroughly mortified. She knows very well that Hannibal would’ve had no issue with getting blood out of the linen, but she wasn’t willing to trouble him with it.

Two days in, she’s thoroughly miserable. Curled up on the couch with a cushion beneath her head and a heating pad doing little to soothe the gnawing cramps in her stomach.

She hears the sound of Hannibal shuffling papers and books in his study, and while she doesn’t want to ask for his comfort, she’s hoping he’ll pick up on her predicament.

He always seems to know when she’s menstruating, and he’ll leave boxes of sanitary supplies on the nightstand, along with chocolate covered pomegranate.

Bedelia shifts her position on the couch, bringing her knees closer to her chest as the cramps begin to settle in her back. She groans in discomfort, letting a slow exhale out of her nose.

As if on cue, Hannibal emerges from his study, his eyes falling on her. A look akin to sympathy crosses his face, before he makes his way to her. He takes a seat beside her, his hand reaching to brush a strand of blonde hair from her face.

“I’m fine,” she tells him, before he can even say anything.

“You’re in pain.”

“Yes,” she says. “But I’ve done this every month since I was fourteen. I’m quite sure I’ll live.”

Hannibal doesn’t falter as her sharp response, but instead urges her to sit up. Bedelia groans as she does, a wave of nausea washing over her from the intensity of the cramps.

“We have tea. Peppermint, ginger,” he says, his hands running down over her shoulders.

“I’m fine, Hannibal. It’s…unusually painful this month.”

“I can see that,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Bedelia softens slightly at that. Despite her standoffish demeanour, she can’t help but melt against his touch. “Lift your shirt, if you’re comfortable.”

Her eyebrow raises.

“For your cramping.”

Bedelia huffs, before complying. She lifts her sweater, allowing him to run his hands over her back. His touch is cool, but not uncomfortable. His thumbs press into her back, rubbing in slow circles.

She exhales, feeling the smallest sense of relief. He’s good with his hands, in a hundred different ways. And somehow he always knows what she needs. It’s part of the reason she loves him as much as she does. God help her.

After a few minutes, he urges her to lie back against him. His hands dip just below her waistband, and he rubs soothing circles into her lower stomach. She’s completely at his mercy like this, letting out soft sighs as he alleviates her pain. He doesn’t show any signs of stopping until she’s half-asleep against him, her body relaxed and fluid.

“Better?”

“Mm,” she hums, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles carefully.

[jammatown919]

Plus One

This has been sitting in my drafts 99% done for like, four months now, so I figured I'd finish it up and send it out since I haven't posted any writing in a hot minute.

-----

"Cupcake, I really don't think this is a good idea."

"I'm sorry, Vi, but it's been three months. I can't hold her off any longer."

So this was Vi's punishment for falling in love. After seven years wasted in prison and everything that had gone wrong with her sister, she'd finally found a reason to smile again; the woman of her dreams, standing directly behind her as she looked at herself, hardly recognizable, in the mirror. This woman right here was the light of Vi's life, and things were damn near perfect.

If only a formal introduction to Piltovan high society wasn't part of the package deal.

"Do I seriously have to wear this?" Vi adjusted the collar of her impossibly expensive suit, still grimacing at her neat, slicked-back hair which she feared might never be completely gel-free again.

"I offered you a dress," Caitlyn replied, dressed just as formally as Vi but pulling off her sleek navy gown and high heels significantly better. Her hair, pulled into a neat twisted bun, was immaculate without any product, which was just not fair, honestly.

"Then you would've made me wear heels," Vi grumbled. She swore the collar was making a conscious effort to choke her. "Cait, I don't wanna go to this thing."

"I know, love." To her credit, Caitlyn was incredibly sympathetic, and she had valiantly held off her vulture of a mother from trying to present Vi at one of these events for an impressively long time. Unfortunately, though, sympathy didn't get Vi out of this suit or her "responsibility as Caitlyn's partner", as Cassandra had put it.

What a piece of work. 

If not for her insistence, Caitlyn and Tobias would have been fine with Vi continuing to sit out of all the events the Kirammans hosted and attended, but alas, neither of them seemed to know how to tell their matriarch no.

She tried to remind herself this wasn't for Cassandra. It was for Caitlyn, so her mother would get off her back about it and stop starting arguments. It was so the two of them wouldn't have to endure any more awkward dinners or pointed questions about why Vi was "hiding" from all those stuck-up elites. As if she needed a reason. 

"Can we say I'm sick?" Vi asked, reminding herself of a much younger Powder trying to weasel her way out of chores. God, she missed that kid. 

"She'll just make you go to the next one," Caitlyn replied, refocusing Vi before she could think too hard about the sister she'd lost. "It's best to just get it out of the way now. The first one's always the hardest."

First. Implying there would be more to follow. Great. 

"Do we have to stay the whole time? What if I get in there, say hi to everyone I'm supposed to be nice to, and we just go?" 

"The whole thing won't even be two hours," Caitlyn said, and when Vi turned to face her, she was completely serious. "It's just a cocktail party."

"We're getting this dressed up for less than two hours?" Thought it sounded a bit silly to put this much effort into their appearances for just a short event, Vi was infinitely relieved that she'd be out of this damn suit sooner than she'd thought. 

"These things are intentionally short," Caitlyn said, reaching out to fix Vi's tie. "Long enough to catch up with people, but short enough to avoid anyone getting too tired or bored. It won't be that bad, really. It's just drinks, appetizers, and small talk."

"Drinks and appetizers don't sound that bad," Vi replied. "It's the small talk I'm worried about. The hell am I supposed to talk about with these people?" 

"You won't have to say much," Caitlyn promised, gently caressing the side of Vi's the way they both loved. "Just stay with me and follow my lead. It'll be over soon enough."

Vi took a deep breath and nodded, looking herself over in the mirror one last time. She didn't particularly care whether her tie was just so or her hair was perfectly neat, but Cassandra would have a fit if she looked anything less than the very high Kiramman standard of presentable. 

"Ready, love?" Caitlyn reached for Vi's hand, looking at her expectantly. Vi sighed and resigned herself to her fate. 

"As I'll ever be."

---------

As it turned out, Vi shouldn't have been as worried as she'd been back home. No, she should have been far, far more worried. 

Despite the Kirammans' insistence that this was a relatively small affair, there were at least fifty people present when they entered the ballroom where some friend of the family Vi had never met liked to host their guests, and they were all staring at her. 

Some were better at than others, stealing glances when they thought she was looking far enough in another direction that she wouldn't notice, but some were absolutely shameless in their stares. But worst of all were the whispers. Caitlyn had warned her to expect some type of reaction to their relationship, but it seemed her place of origin was the hot topic of the evening. 

She didn't know why she was mad. She' been expecting this. She knew how these people were, and her hot pink hair and face tattoo clearly marked her as other in this room of neat Topsiders, but she'd thought she wouldn't care. That she was above their bullshit opinions and nothing they said would matter to her because she'd heard it all before. 

But this wasn't like the other times. Before, she'd had some sense of pride in herself, knowing she was a daughter of the fissures and the Pilties were on her turf. Now she was on their turf, dressed up as one of them, making an effort to appear as something she wasn't because she loved Caitlyn so goddamn much, and they looked at her much differently than she was used to. Enforcers had looked down on her before, but as the dirty street kid who was probably going to punch them in the face, and that was something she could live with. These people looked at her like some exotic pet the Kirammans had brought to the party. And, in a way, she was. 

They all knew it. Their whispers told her. All they saw her as was the Kiramman girl's dressed up stray. A street thug that may or may not be domesticated, depending on who you asked.  An adventurous fling that never should have been made public. A phase that Caitlyn would hopefully grow out of. 

That last one was what really got to her. The idea that Caitlyn didn't really love her, that this was nothing more than a rich girl looking for a thrill, that their relationship wasn't real. Maybe she could have gritted her teeth through the rest of it, but she wasn't going to stand here and listen to these people who didn't know anything make assumptions and throw around theories about the last good thing in her life. She had to leave, or jaws were going to break. 

All in all, she lasted twenty minutes. 

After that, she was pushing her way out past stupid Pilties who were extremely offended that she'd nudged them aside or forgotten to say "excuse me" or whatever the hell mattered to these people. Caitlyn was quick to follow, softly calling her name and apologizing absently to all of the people she'd shouldered out of her way. 

Things were better out on the patio. Quieter. Two people minding their own business on the opposite side, paying absolutely no attention to Vi finding a spot to lean against a railing or Caitlyn chasing her outside. 

"Vi-" Caitlyn began, but Vi didn't let her get far. 

"I'm not going back in there," she snapped, cringing internally at the vaguely hurt expression on Caitlyn's face. She shouldn't snap at her. It wasn't her fault. "Look, Cupcake, I'm sorry, but this whole thing was a mistake. I know this is important to you, but I don't want to be stared at and talked about like some exotic thing."

"I know," Caitlyn replied softly. She slowly walked toward Vi until they were side by side, in similar positions with their folded arms bracing them against the railing. "I'm sorry I made you come here. I should have known this would happen." 

"You didn't make me," Vi reminded her. "Your mom did."

"I'm a grown woman. I should be able to tell my mother no."

"Guess that makes two of us."

"No, this one isn't on you," Caitlyn said. "You were trying to accommodate us. You had no idea what to expect, but I've been plenty of these things. It was my responsibility to recognize how this would be for you and not put you in this situation."

"Cait-"

"Don't tell me it's not my fault. You said no and I didn't listen." Caitlyn ran a hand through her hair with a heavy sigh. "We don't have to go back in. And I won't make you go to any more events. If my mother has any complaints, she can kindly shove them... well, you get the idea."

Vi snorted in a way the Pilties back inside would probably describe as undignified. 

"You know..." she said, a hint of mischief in her tone. "I think hearing you tell your mom to shove her complaints up her ass would be the perfect way to make this up to me."

"Oh, quiet, you." Caitlyn gave her a light, playful shove. "I have a better way to make it up to you, anyway." She made a show of her eyes traveling up and down Vi's body, completely shamelessly. "If you're open to it, that is?"

"When am I not?" Vi looped an arm around Caitlyn's waist and pulled her in a little closer. "Maybe we should get out of here before I tear that dress off you."

"Lower your voice!" Caitlyn hissed, but she was laughing all the same. 

"Yes, ma'am," Vi replied flirtatiously.

"Save that for later," Caitlyn said in a warning voice. "Come on. Before my mother tries to drag us back inside." 

"Like she could," Vi scoffed, but she took Caitlyn's outstretched hand regardless and followed her to and down the little set of stairs connecting the patio to an unnecessarily large garden. 

It didn't look like guests were supposed to be out here, but Caitlyn walked confidently enough that neither the guests on the patio nor the random gardener working on a flowerbed batted an eye at them as they circled around the impressive property to the giant front entrance where they'd been greeted. 

There were a few people lingering here, but Caitlyn paid them no mind, so neither did Vi. It felt a little weird, like someone was going to call out and stop them any moment. The feeling reminded Vi of sneaking around Vander as a kid, either to go out way too late at night or sneak a sip of something from The Last Drop. What she wouldn't give to hear that old voice scolding her. 

Now, if anyone thought to stop her, it would be nothing but high-pitched Piltie voices, but fortunately, no one cared enough. Vi and Caitlyn were free to walk home in peace. 

"Think anyone'll notice we left?" Vi asked once they were more or less clear of the property. 

"Oh, my mother will have a fit," Caitlyn replied with a tiny, adorable roll of her eyes. "We might not be hearing the end of this for a while." 

"What else is new?" Vi said lightly. "How long do you think we have?"

"By the time we get home, I'd say we'll have a good hour and half of peace."

"Who said anything about peace?" Vi's hand slipped out of Caitlyn's and gently trailed down her thigh. "I thought you were making this up to me."

Caitlyn swatted her hand away, but she couldn't hide her little smile or the pink tint in her cheeks. 

"Of course. How could I forget?" she replied. 

"Y'know..." Vi continued mischievously, "I don't think an hour and a half sounds quite long enough. Why don't we pick up the pace? I'll race you."

"Vi, I'm in heels!" Caitlyn exclaimed as Vi grabbed her arm again and tugged her along. 

"You can run in heels."

"Not these ones!" 

"Guess we know who's winning, then." Vi made a big show of speeding up, but she didn't really take off the way she'd grown up doing. If she'd really wanted to, she could've left Caitlyn in the dust, even in this restrictive outfit, but this was all for fun. 

Besides, she would never dream of missing out on the way Caitlyn tried to hurry along in those horrendous stilts she called shoes. Absolutely adorable. 

"C'mon," she called, with absolutely no regard for the fact that they were jogging down a public street. "First one to bed gets to top."

And suddenly Caitlyn could run on stilts. 

It seemed Vi's night was about to get a whole lot better. 

----

If you enjoyed this fic, please considering reblogging to share it with others! Likes are great but reblogs will make a creator's day.

[donnerpartyofone]

After much sustained effort and expense I finally got my new asthma medication and now I'm worried that it's making me crazy. Its hard to tell because I have a lot of baseline anxiety but I don't think I should be feeling this angry and hypervigilant and unable to focus over just the usual shit. I'm tired of finding out that I can't take meds that work for almost everybody else, and/or that I literally need and/or that are my only options. I'm tired of skin medication that gives me rashes and antidepressants that make me vomit or that make my ears ring so loud I want to jump off a building and anxiety meds that give me those extra rare pre-necrotizing fasciitis symptoms and exercises that fix one thing while injuring another thing and so on and so forth. And I'm tired of feeling like a bad person because I don't want to keep trying as hard as I can to take care of myself because I know I just have tons of side effects and disappointments ahead of me, even as the world keeps telling me that my problems all come from not trying hard enough to take care of myself (in which case I deserve my problems, obviously). I'm tired of knowing how much of my personality and life experience is determined by physical and mental illness. I don't even get PMS really (because of various things wrong with me I expect) but I'm tired of hearing about how even in that entirely ordinary arena one's thoughts and feelings and perceptions of the world are nothing but a collection of meaningless chemical distortions. The ultimate message of all of this is always that you're not really a person, you're just a series of completely random synaptic events constellated around a sentience that has naively mistaken this activity for something as personal and intimate as an individual soul. Like if it's all just a bunch of arbitrary neurological garbage controlling my mind and body, then why am I forced to remain conscious and trapped in the middle of it? If it's all just "hormones" or "chemicals" or something, why do I even have to be awake to formulate an opinion about it

[twot0ned]

Autumn - 11/05/24

Dear Someone Else,

I love Autumn

It's my favorite season - Summer is FAR too hot, winter makes me sad like Bella Swan for 3 months, and Spring - well - Spring is my second favorite :)

Fall is just like nothing else. I could never live somewhere where the trees don't change and the temperature doesn't drop low enough to wear a sweater without wanting to die. I would hate that.

Lucky for me, I live in the exuberant midwest where the weed is expensive and Caseys' rain supreme! All hail the 99¢ Polar Pop!

I really don't want to be here anymore if I can be honest with all of you. I'm sick to death of it. One perk is the trees though. They turn the brightest yellow and reds you've ever seen. The leaves fall and decorate the streets and I simply love it. This year's feels like the first year I've ever really looked at them. Appreciated them, I should say, I've obviously seen them before. Duh.

I kinda feel like I haven't been fully conscious until now. I look back on things I did when I was younger and think to myself, "Who is that, I don't know her (and I don't want to know her ZING!)". Hilarious. I don't know if it's the cogs moving into place in my frontal cortex or the lack of mental health care that I didn't receive but desperately needed at 19 and now have that makes that girl feel so separate from me. Future me will probably think that about me right now in five years.

I feel like I've been underwater for so long and now I'm bonking my head trying to get all of the water out of my ear, but, ya know, there's still some in there. It's probably gonna be there for the rest of my life.

Don't worry about little old me now gentle reader, I've gotten a therapist since then and we're great friends. Like this (please imagine the thing that people do with the pinkies - you know what I'm talking about). I am also very medicated, yippee!

I feel...better. Yes, much better! Hopefully! I go back and forth on it sometimes.

Despite a valiant effort my autumn kinda blew this year. Which sucks because as previously stated!!! Fall is my favorite!!!

I didn't dress up for Halloween. Crushing. I didn't carve any pumpkins. Devastating. I did nothing but work and school. Which is.....fine. I don't know I can't decide if I'm being overdramatic about the whole thing. It's starting to feel that way.

The most I dressed up was a pair of cat ears I bought at the beginning of the shift I had on Halloween night (BOGUS!!). Some punk kid called me a furry. I shake my fist at you punk kid!

My life feels very in-between right now. In between teenagerhood (woof!) and, I don't know, the rest of it. The rest of my life I guess. I'm not there yet and I can feel it in my unsettled bones. I'm stuck in some sort of purgatory that takes place in my parent's basement and is full of deep breathing and pep-talks into the mirror. "You can do this" sometimes turns into "You have to do this so that the rest of your life doesn't suck hardcore! Come oN WHAT ARE YOU DOING??!! GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME WOMAN!!", or something along those lines.

Halloween came and went. I didn't do any of the things I love to do and now it's November (the worst month of the year, what even is there, Thanksgiving? okay...). Is that spilled milk upsetting enough to cry over? I am still not sure.

I definitely have already but I want to know if I should feel ridiculous about it or not.

My favorite time of year flew by me and now it's election day and the sun set at 5 pm this afternoon. Staying positive is becoming a lot of work to keep up.

Is that how it's gonna be for the rest of my life? Working really hard to keep it up? When will it get easy? Right now it's really hard. I'm so terribly lonesome. I am not where I want to end up.

Sincerely,

TwoToned

***

[realityhop]

...

"The prefrontal cortex (PFC) is your “high order” or “executive function” conscious part of the brain.  Each of us has our own personal Jiminy Cricket, like the character from Pinocchio, which keeps us from indulging in bad behavior and keeps our baser desires in check.  In an uncontrollable stressful situation, the amygdala–HPA axis commands the release of neurotransmitters including dopamine.  These flood the PFC, silencing Jiminy, which disinhibits you from doing some wild and crazy things.  When your PFC is under fire by cortisol, your rational decision-making ability is toast.  You can’t differentiate between immediate or delayed gratification.  So, instead of your Jiminy telling you to “Zen” when someone steals your parking space, you are much more likely to react on impulse and extract your short-lived justice, just as Kathy Bates’s character in the film Fried Green Tomatoes (1991) did (Towanda!). […] Throughout adolescence and early adulthood, the cognitive connections between actions and consequences are muddled, as the maturation of the prefrontal cortex (the Jiminy Cricket) is not complete until approximately twenty-five years of age."

— Robert Lustig, The Hacking of the American Mind: The Science Behind the Corporate Takeover of Our Bodies and Brains (2017)

"Social-emotional learning focuses on knowing how to name and manage our emotions, delay gratification, and show grit and temerity in reaching our goals, as well as on knowing how to repair conflict and how to reach out for help where needed.  No matter how great our self-understanding, we need practice and awareness to effectively express and manage our emotions, empathize, engage in self-care, listen well, communicate effectively, and repair relationship problems.  Without this, it can be all too easy to use our birth chart’s archetypal blueprint as a justification for bad behavior (“I didn’t mean to yell at you, but I can’t help it with three planets in Aries!”) rather than as a guide for skillful interactions and service to the world.  It’s too easy to retreat into ourselves rather than connect with others in a meaningful way.  And once we start to build a working knowledge of astrology, it’s tempting to use others’ charts to make assumptions about what they are and are not capable of or whether it’s worth our effort to connect with them deeply. Most self-help books focus on getting you what you want, making your fortune, realizing your potential, chasing your dreams, being a rugged individualist who does it your way.  In a world where most people are used to having it their way — the music they like, the newsfeed that supports their beliefs, the clothes that express the self — polishing one’s personal identity and chasing personal achievement are held as the highest aims.  Yet, the idea that we thrive most when we take responsibility for and rely upon only ourselves has become a huge source of sadness and disconnection."

— Jennifer Freed, Use Your Planets Wisely: Master Your Ultimate Cosmic Potential with Psychological Astrology (2020)

"In the course of developing emotional responsibility, most of us experience three stages: (1) “emotional slavery”—believing ourselves responsible for the feelings of others, (2) “the obnoxious stage”—in which we refuse to admit to caring what anyone else feels or needs, and (3) “emotional liberation”—in which we accept full responsibility for our own feelings but not the feelings of others, while being aware that we can never meet our own needs at the expense of others."

— Marshall Rosenberg, Nonviolent Communication: A Language of Life (1999)

Learn the skill of delaying your response when faced with someone who is intentionally trying to provoke you. Refuse to let others dictate your mood. Take charge of your emotions. You decide when, how, and whether you want to to react. You control yourself, no one else does.

[dopesotherstuff]

That is so gender

When I say my gender is “female but IDK what the hell I’m doing” it’s for two reasons:

1: My relationship with being a woman is not a “celebration of the divine feminine” so much as it’s a giant pain in the ass that I don’t feel intimately connected with, but don’t reject either.*

2: Being “acceptably feminine” in presentation is impossible for me due to various neuro, sensory and balance issues, and lack of money. It also seems incredibly pointless given the amount of effort, discomfort and expense involved and the lack of any real payoff for someone like me. I’m already ostracized by a stunning number of people for being autistic and not being conventionally attractive, and getting a makeover I can’t even afford absolutely will not change that.**

Elaborations below the cut...

*It’s less “I am woman hear me roar” and more a combination of “oh, okay, my body’s got boobs and a uterus this time around” and “WHAT THE FUCK why is all of this so hard”.

I don’t identify with being male, and I’m not unhappy with having a biologically female body--I’m just unhappy with all the stupid shit I have to deal with as a result. Periods. PCOS. Living in fear of getting pregnant. The insane social expectations. The shitty, uncomfortable clothing. The various dangers. The medical prejudice. The social pressure to limit our interests and pursuits to what’s “acceptably feminine”. The sheer number of men who refuse to think of and treat us like actual human beings (and then wonder why we won’t date them). The attacks on our rights. And so on, and so on.

My soul, my inner self, isn’t defined by my sex or my gender. My physical and social experience of life is heavily affected by them, but the rest of me is just sitting back going “this is all very weird and some of it sucks.”

**Performing femininity is this great weird mystery to me (yay autism) that I can’t do well at all due to so much of the performance being physically uncomfortable (yay sensory issues). I also can’t identify at all with anyone who considers activities like getting their eyelashes dyed or their pubic hair ripped out (CRINGE) to be “self-care”.

I can’t do high heels either. Some women look at six inch stiletto heels by some designer and go “I would die for those shoes”. Me and my balance issues go “I would die IN those shoes”. Also the idea of exposing too much of my round little hobbit body or wearing anything too tight makes me super uncomfortable.

And all of it seems so fucking unnecessary. The performance of femininity feels alien to me, and contrived. It’s like something society made up to busy women with shit that doesn’t matter instead of our having more time and energy to get important things done or just enjoy ourselves. In addition, making myself up, showing cleavage, wearing ankle-breakers and all that won’t make me more confident, because I’ll be self-conscious and physically miserable the whole time.

I don’t feel prettier in lipstick; I feel ridiculous, and even more self-conscious. And also like my lips are coated in axle grease. And it feels pointless, too. Even if I did up a full face of makeup perfectly it wouldn’t “make up for” enough in the eyes of those who care about such things. It’s still my fat, plain potato self, only now with red lips and sparkly eyelids. It doesn’t improve how people treat me, or make me more comfortable in public, so why bother with it except maybe when I have to dress up anyway? 

So not only am I bad at performing femininity and made terribly uncomfortable by it, I just don’t see the point. Or the point outside of the massive social pressure for us to put on the performance, and the ostracism we face if we don’t conform.

I’m rejected by most people anyway for being autistic and not conventionally attractive, so trying to be ultra-feminine would not gain me social acceptance. In fact, it would offer little reward, if any, especially compared to the cost in time, effort, discomfort, distraction and sometimes, physical risk.

I have no control over other people’s prejudices, and there’s an overwhelming number of people out there who look down on me for things I can’t control either. Putting myself through severe discomfort to satisfy other people’s idea of what a woman should look like doesn’t protect me from social ostracism, even if I could do it right, so why try?

Besides, it often feels like doing so would be pandering to the same assholes who treat me like a lunatic if I infodump or stim in public. It honestly feels like a lot of people out there are just looking for any excuse to reject someone, whether it’s their dress size, what they do with their hands while talking, or whether their fingernails have the right color of lacquer on them. Stupid, ridiculous, petty reasons. But it happens all the time, and I will never understand why.

I’m clean, fairly well-groomed, and usually comfortably dressed in something clean and decent-looking, like a long cotton skirt. I’ll wear something nicer for special occasions, and maybe even endure some lipstick. If that isn’t “feminine” enough for someone, well...they can go fuck themselves. Nobody asked them to play conformity police in my life.

So yeah, that’s the whole explanation of my weird relationship with femininity and its performance. I hope it made some kind of sense.

[cavitychemicals]

my brain is all over the place right now so I apologize if this is messy or redundant, but I wanted to add a few things as well, as an immunocompromised person who has no choice but to live with multiple people who take no precautions and put me at high risk of covid reinfection. honestly the situation is very scary right now and I want to share what I can to make things easier for everyone.

disclaimer that this is all based on my personal understanding of the situation as a covid conscious person; I am not claiming to be an authority on the matter and it is very possible that things I say here may end up proven wrong in the future, etc. I encourage people to do their own research; this is just a starting point.

1. slight correction that the new covid vaccine is not a booster, it is actually an entirely new vaccine! but more importantly (in the united states) you can get the new vaccine for free at cvs and walgreens regardless of insurance. (you can/should make an appointment online. it's a bit of a hassle but it is worth it.)

2. cloth masks and surgical masks don't do much but they are still better than nothing, even if marginally so. (in a pinch I will wear a surgical mask under a cloth one.) and personally I greatly appreciate seeing people wearing them, especially since I know that's the only option for many people (kn95s and n95s are not only more expensive but harder to find in stores now.) and if nothing else it indicates to me that people still care-- it's a sign of solidarity. (ofc this is my personal opinion and others may disagree with me on this.)

3. to expand on an above point, testing is unreliable and inaccessible at this point. rapid tests frequently give false negatives and PCRs are prohibitively expensive (plus I have heard anecdotally that PCRs may be giving false negatives more frequently now too.) however, positive test results are still reliable. this is particularly important because a positive test result is often required to get a prescription for paxlovid (covid treatment); so if you have covid symptoms, particularly ones that are more than "mild", and/or suspect you have been exposed to covid and are high risk, I would urge you to get tested if at all possible. (I do realize that this still might not be possible for many people, and ofc you could still get a false negative, but I feel obligated to mention this.)

4. two additional things I have been utilizing to lower my risk of covid reinfection: corsi-rosenthal boxes and air sanitizing sprays. a corsi-rosenthal box is a DIY air purifier that filters viruses (and other stuff) from the air. here is a link with info on how to make one and here is another link where you can buy a kit to make an alternate version using PC fans (much quieter than a box fan). they are highly customizable based on your space/budget. for air sanitizing sprays, multiple brands are available-- you want one that specifically says it kills viruses and use it as directed. I use it in my shared bathroom at least once daily.

my final thoughts: yes, covid is still a thing, yes, it is still something you should be concerned about. (and I do want to emphasize that I do not blame you for thinking otherwise! everyone who should be a reliable source-- governments, doctors, the CDC, etc., have been minimizing covid if not straight up telling us "the pandemic is over". it is not your fault for believing them! they are the ones doing gross negligence here!) but unfortunately, despite what anyone would like to think, if you or someone you know is sick right now, it is statistically most likely covid. public health is a group effort and our governments have failed us, so it is up to us to do what we can to keep each other safe. my hope is that by sharing this information I can help someone do this.

did anyone else catch this cold that feels like the flu and does the usual feel-like-you're-dying thing for a day or two but then after you get "better" you still have a wad of phlegm the size and viscosity of a bowling ball in your skull for the next week and alternately choke on post-nasal drip that tastes + feels like Silly Putty or prolapse your nostil while blowing your nose loud enough to signal to Gabriel that the Rapture has begun? asking for a friend

[unbakehisbeans]

I’m reflecting on, like, my personal relationship with the demands of beauty as a woman and particularly as a woman of colour and how my relationship to that has changed over time. And I really don’t have any big conclusions to draw from this, it’s just kind of harrowing honestly.

Basically until adulthood I was really self conscious about my weight, the breadth of my shoulders, my body hair, the hair on my head, the size of my nose, the colour of my skin, the size and shape of my breasts, the size of my waist, the size of my butt, etc. And while I never really had the means to do much about most of those things, I’m remembering how much distress this caused me and how much time and energy I spent on addressing these perceived flaws.

Like I was shaving basically my whole body on the regular, trying to smooth and straighten my hair, abusing my skin for a while to get clear skin (idk why I ever did this? I’ve never really had much acne), dieting and starving myself and exercising all the time, wearing uncomfortable and super tight clothes to show off how skinny I was, wearing push-up bras constantly even though my body is just literally incapable of cleavage, tweezing oh my god the horrible tweezing of my upper lip and my cheeks and my eyebrows, and there’s probably more stuff I’m forgetting.

And this was all right around the same time that advertisers found it was profitable to convince women that you’re doing all of this “for you,” that it was about self care or being confident in yourself, and I’m really disturbed by this in retrospect. Like, I was never confident and it was never “for me” it was very definitely to appear as much like a conventionally pretty, skinny, hairless, white girl with an hourglass figure. Like my horror at being a hairy Arab girl, how troubled I was about the hair on my face and my body and eventually I was (and am now) fuzzy with lanugo which is horrifying for a whole host of reasons. And I was so ashamed of my curly, frizzy hair, and I could never even style it nicely because I was trying to make it as straight and smooth as possible instead of accepting that it’s curly and just styling the curls that are there…. And when I was even younger, middle school and before, I was really ashamed of my, frankly, very light brown skin. Like I thought I was dark and that that was unattractive, and I’m really saddened and horrified by that now! And even though I’ve always been very thin I was furious about my waist not being proportionally teeny tiny compared to my hips, and I hated my small butt and small boobs—as if it’s realistic to be this skinny and still have a fat ass and big tits?! And I remember thinking about how as soon as I got the chance I was gonna get rhinoplasty and a breast augmentation and expensive, constant hair treatments to straighten my hair, laser hair removal, etc.

And I felt like I had sort of moved past that in adulthood. I stopped wearing makeup, stopped shaving and plucking, stopped straightening and fighting with my hair, stopped dieting and doing crazy exercise, all that stuff, right? But now I’m realizing that I haven’t really moved past it. I’ve sort of achieved a necessary and relatively healthy neutrality with my body where I’m not actively ashamed of my appearance and I’m not putting such great and frantic effort into it either. BUT what I never stopped doing is hiding my body hair, I usually don’t wear crop tops, sleeveless shirts, anything that shows my legs unless I have shaved. And I still feel self conscious about wearing clothes that don’t show how skinny I am, I feel uncomfortable in loose, billowy clothes because how will people know that I’m skinny and therefore pretty, right? This is a bizarre way to think about clothing and my body! And more recently I’m increasingly terrified of aging, Im scared of turning 23, I wanna be 22 forever. And I’m spending all this time and money on anti-aging now, using retinol and constantly wearing sunscreen, massaging my face and trying not to frown so I don’t get wrinkles, trying to lie on my back when I sleep so I don’t get wrinkles, constantly worrying about whether my boobs are every bit as perky as they were when I first grew them 😂 And I find myself now considering getting Botox, considering getting laser resurfacing to help with my scarring and hyperpigmentation and potentially reducing wrinkles and fine lines, considering getting one of those weird expensive microcurrent devices!

I may have recovered from my eating disorder for the most part, but I’m still afraid of gaining “too much” weight. I feel like I look old at 22, I see the occasional grey hair on my head or I see the spots where I’m going to get wrinkles when I’m older and I’m terrified! At 22 I’m scared that I’m not as cute as I was at 18 or 20 and that I’m going to be less and less cute over time, and I’m ashamed and horrified by it!

It’s so absurd and so harrowing, like, I know that not only am I not alone in feeling this way but that many other women probably have this way worse than I do. And I’m horrified by how much people buy in to the marketing that this is “for you” that it’s not actually for men it’s not actually because you think that you’re ugly and worthless without it that this is actually about confidence and not about the abject body horror of the demands of femininity.

[leviathans-watching]

oohh how about a boba or coffee date with the brothers? ~Lycoris

boba date with the brothers

includes: the brothers x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .7k | rated g | m.list

a/n: heyyy i hope you enjoy!! this truly was so fun to write and i feel like there will be a part two with the dateables lol. my inbox is open to chat, leave feedback, and req so come on over!!

please reblog (人ﾟ∀ﾟ)

➳ lucifer is paying for you, no questions asked. even if you offer to pay him back, there’s no way in hell he’s letting you do so. he makes sure to take you to a place he thinks you’ll like and the effort was well-spent because the place is exactly to your liking. you both order and he waits at the counter before you grab them a table and when he comes over carrying the cups you notice he’s gotten you a straw that matches your drink. he also offers you a taste of his every time.

➳ mammon is super excited to go out with you, and his enthusiasm, while low-key, is contagious so you look like the happiest pair in the joint. you guys switch on and off on who’s paying, something neither of you mind, and mammon is conscious of picking less expensive things when its your turn, even though you assure him it’s fine. while you wait for your drinks he grabs your hand, swinging it gently back and forth. people always tell you that you’re a cute couple, which makes him preen every time without fail.

➳ levi usually mobile orders his stuff but he doesn’t mind going in so much if it’s with you. you often let the other person order for you to spice up your day a little, and you’re always happy with whatever he gets you since he knows your taste so well. even if you’re the one paying, levi makes sure to stick some money into the tip jar, something that just makes you love him even more. once your drinks come you tend to take them with you on your way instead of sitting and drinking them, but this allows you to savor your drink more so you’re more than alright with it.

➳ satan is on his best behavior from the get go, holding the door for you and acting as charming as can be. the people manning the till always give you an ‘aren’t you lucky’ look, and yes, you really are. he insists on paying, and unlike lucifer, will let you pay him back later or just treat you both next time, although when next time rolls around he usually swoops in and covers it before you can. he knows your order by heart so orders for the both of you while you decided if you want to eat inside, and when your drink comes he lets you take a sip of his first.

➳ asmo doesn’t really care who pays, and neither do you, since you know it’ll all even out in the end, so it’s just whoever offers fist. he likes to get complimentary drinks, so he’ll wait for you to choose before he makes his choice and once they're out, he gets straws that match the drinks but you take the one to match his so the photo is more cohesive. you tend to find somewhere nice outside to sit, enjoying your drinks in the sun, and asmo continues to take photos, though he doesn't post them, saying they’re meant for the two of you, not the public.

➳ beel will always ask for a sip of your drink but you have to watch him close or he'll drain the whole thing. it’s turned almost into a game, where he sees how much he can get away with, and in return you often steal his drink and make it even. he’s also a tipper, and all the people at the counter always titter and blush, definitely smitten with him- you don't even mind; they have good taste. beel, of course, is oblivious. you stay in the shop to eat, and every once in a while he convinces you to get another to go after you finish your first.

➳ belphie has his wallet out before you can even say anything, but you know he’s good for it, so whatever. sometimes you want to spoil him so you pay, but usually, it’s him. he takes even longer to decide on his order than you, but eventually picks, though, to your disappointment it’s usually the same thing as you. you’ve tried to explain why getting two flavors and sharing is better but he really doesn’t get it. when the drinks are handed over you get them, and he holds the door for you on the way out so you can drink them in the car.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[sebsxphia]

Hi, I'm the anon who sent the drabble of Jake with a WSO wife that dies. I am so glad you liked it!!!! xxx

I have another thought relating to that one... I hope you'll like this too, and I'm so interested to read your thoughts!

After the funeral, time has gone on and Jake has adapted to the one-seater. Still carrying his grief, his loss still clinging to his heart, he is not making any attempts to bond with his fellow aviators (save for Javy, but even he doesn't know about Jake's wife). If anything, he puts effort into not getting attached to anyone. He is completely focused on constant improvement, to become the best of the best, so that he would never get into that situation ever again (even though none of the circumstances are the same as when he flew with his wife, it doesn't matter, he must be better, he tells himself). To ward off getting quizzed about the longing looks he sometimes catches himself giving some happy couples, he claims he's only looking for the next girl to snatch. It is easier to be seen as an asshole than to bear the looks of pity. Over time, he becomes Hangman. And not just Hangman, but Hangman (I can't really put the difference into words, but I'll try... Hope it makes some sense! 😂😅) - the one that seemingly has no regard, nor loyalty to anyone. The one that will leave his wingmen, just so they know he "doesn't care". The one that can and will find your sore points and twist the knife in it. All this just so the others may hate him for it. So that if he doesn't make it out of a mission, they wouldn't really feel sorry for him, because he doesn't deserve to be mourned (or so he thinks - guilt is a wondrous thing). He doesn't let on any of his true feelings, and he is able to hide them well on base for years.

Until Phoenix and Bob has to eject because of the bird strike. Hearing it happen takes him right back to that fateful day. He is frozen in place until he hears that a rescue team is on their way to the pair. It takes all his restraint, but he manages to calmly walk out of sight of the others. Then he runs. He finds himself in a currently abandoned hangar, sinking to the floor by the wall. Legs pulled to his chest, head on his knees, he lets his tears free. After a few moments he reaches for the chain around his neck and pulls it from under his clothes. There is a locket next to his dog tags. He opens it and comes face to face with the smiling face of his wife. The photo was taken on their wedding day. "I'm so sorry sweets" he whispers "I'm so sorry..."

Whooopsss... got carried away... 😅

nah nah nah nah

you did NOT just write the most incredible and beautiful piece for hangman’s origin story!!!!!!!!

this is the hc for hangman now and i cannot believe you sent this to me!!! for free!!!!!! i absolutely adore this my dear anon, oh my goodness!!

it makes so much sense for the way hangman is and why he’s so closed off to everyone else and making jokes at their expense, because he feels terribly guilty.

it’s why he so desperately wants to go on the mission with mav and it’s why he would fuck up the training just slightly. he wants to know the risk involved. he wants to do one last good thing to clear his conscious and if he doesn’t make it back, that’s fine by him. at least he tried.

ouch

dear anon, thank you so so so much for sending this to me!! 💌💖💘

[aralezinspace]

HI ACTUAL DRUMMER HERE (both like Rock Band Drummer and Percussionist in an Orchestra Drummer as well as Renaissance Faire Drummer)

I've used tippers/wooden sticks as well as soft headed mallets on djembes, and it does change the sound! Using a stick/tipper gives it a bit more of a sharp cracking sound, especially if you make a conscious effort to hit the rim of the drum on every stroke. Using a mallet softens the sound of the actual impact on the drum, so especially when doing long rolls it makes it sound like it's just rolling and not actually being hit with anything. The main thing with using a tipper or stick on a djembe or any drum primarily meant to be played with your hands is that you have to be careful with the amount of force you use when playing it, especially if the drum has a goat or calfskin head rather than a synthetic one; it's much easier to bust a drumhead when using a stick rather than your hands and those skins get expensive. Also don't wear rings when playing hand drums, shit hurts both the drum and your hands (yes I'm speaking from experience 😅)

Speaking of tippers, I bet Hob is also super good with a bodhran 👀

What kind of drum does drummer-Hob play?

A djembe!

[dsaf-phone-rehab]

My motivation comes and goes, but here I am with some phone man headcannons about first dates with their S/Os cause headcannon is 90% of what phone fans have <(=w= )>

Harry, our poor sweet boy, is a perfect gentleman in what he thinks is normal but isn't always exactly clear.

Dinner dates are a classic, and a simple enough starting point for a man that's never been on a date before in his life

He will take you somewhere nice, and DEFINITELY clean. Like, he came in the day before and got weird looks because he was legit just inspecting things because if his sweetheart ever even glanced at a scuttler on a date with him, whatever confidence he has will be obliterated.

Dresses appropriately, nothing overboard but he wants you to know he does care about how much effort he puts in

Opens the door, walks you to a seat, and pretends he doesn't know what he wants until you do so he isn't pressuring you, even though he figured out what he wanted yesterday and is the kind of guy to order the same thing every time he goes out to eat

Looks a little funny using one hand to block your view of his 'mouth' while he eats with the other, but he's very self conscious of the fact phones that choose to eat (as he technically doesn't need to) have to pop open the front panel. Don't ask about it, please, just let him subtly block your view for the sake of his remaining pride

Knows how to drive, but if you live relatively close to the resteraunt will walk you home just to hold your hand and get that extra ten minutes with you, even at the expense of the anxiety it causes him with questioning whether you wanted the same thing or not

Next time he'll offer to bring the car, and he makes a note to ask about where you want to go next should you want another date

Steven knows what he's doing! Wow!

Actually been to other places in town so he knows what's good, he used to work at a Freddy's that was in this town. Boy, he's worked a lot of places, and is pretty good at determining what he could do to impress you. Yes, specifically impress you. He doesn't want this to be boring, he gets teased enough for being too professional even in his off hours, so he wants you to see that he's got more going for him than that

After a long while of considering options... He takes you bowling

Low-key beating himself up over Jake poking fun at him over the choice

"Wow, you're good at the only boring sport I can think of besides golf?"

That comment in particular hit him like a brick and now he's worried you won't like it

Whether you actually like to bowl or not, he'll make sure there's no real competitive nature to the game

Buys both of your guy's way in, helps you pick a ball that will be a good weight for you, gives you pointers on how to aim, and, if you're okay with him being that close to you, will help correct your posture

Okay, that comment from Jake is eating him alive and he's dying

Whether it's that comment or first date jitters or just trying a little bit too hard, he is absolutely sucking right now

You win the game. He feels terrible about it. He took you here to impress you, but really all he did was miss every shot he possibly could and give you advice that he continuously messed up the execution of

Ironically, his advice worked for you just fine, but that's too small a victory to see in the shadow of what seems like a massive faliure

Damn his fear of faliure, he feels awful

But! You can totally fix that!!

Tell him you had fun, accuse him of throwing the game for your sake, even a peck on the 'cheek' or holding hands on the way out and all that insecurity is wiped away in a flash

If you liked the date then it's not faliure! Looking like an idiot for an hour or so is a small price to pay for a chance at another date with you, after all

Peter has seen movies, he knows what he's doing thank you very much

So what if he never really had time for a partner before, it can't be hard if his little orange brother is out there running around with some purple dude

Dress shirt and slacks, some flowers, he has all the confidence! He's gonna take you to the movies, so you won't be judging his every move. It'll be fine

Buys you literally whatever you want, he's taking the path of least resistance here so if he can make you happy with snacks he will

Let's you think he chose the movie, but he cheated because he heard you mention the movie you really wanted to see to a friend of yours a few weeks ago

(if you went and saw it with them, please don't tell him it will kill him and his perfect plan will be completely ruined)

He's going to try to hold your hand. If you don't let him, that's okay, but it'll sure make his whole night if you do

Also, he'll hardly be able to focus on the movie if you do, as he'll be worried his hand is too sweaty or too warm or too cold or slowly melting into yours like some sci-fi horror movie about being absorbed by an alien or conjoined to a space criminal

He decides briefly he's probably the alien. Mist people see him as less than human because of the phone head...

But you don't, so he's happy. Because you're really all he'll need from here on out if things go as well as he hopes they will

Misses most of the movie being a hopeless, cheesy romantic in his own head

After he takes you home, he's eager to say you get to pick next time, so be thinking about that

He's going to be so restless, he's glad that dating is so easy. Last thing he wants to do is be completely stressed over romance

Jake will take you to the park

It allows him to smoke, there's not going to be many more people, the weather is beautiful, he doesn't have to worry about the cleanliness of a kitchen or dressing up. It's perfect for a first date

Not ready to see you in casual clothes

Chances are he met you at work. Co-worker or not, work, the grocery store, and home are the only three places he is at any given time and he doesn't fuck around in the store long enough to meet people

So he's probably never actually seen you in casual clothes. You've either both been in your work clothes or you've at least been dressed for a somewhat special occasion sinse all he knows is resteraunt work and being totally burnt out

All that said, he's finding out a lot about you right now, and realizes it pretty fast

Takes note of how much happier you seem to be able to relax, the style you seem most comfortable in, and even the choice in food you grabbed out of the box. It's little things, but there's a lot of them

He's starting to realize he hasn't been this close to another person in a long time

You accidentally put your hand halfway over his at some point after he asked you about your passions in life

Absolutely short circuits

You're talking with such wild inspiration, hand over his, the natural sunlight bringing out all your best features. He could listen to you forever

His cynical nature is a bit more playful now, his shift in attitude is very slight, but he's softer for you, now. There's so much more to you, after all, he wants to show you there's more to him

Don't expect him to start writing poetry or anything, but you'll find he seeks you out a lot more after this

Does his darndest to show off every redeemable quality he has. Not going to make shit up or outwardly boast to you about stuff he's good at, but he's doing somewhat weird stuff like showing you how far he can throw a rock or only smoking half a cigarette at a time instead of a whole one

Both are things he finds impressive, even if the point doesn't get all the way across

Roger is an entire mess

Got up early, scrubbed himself head to toe, outfit picked out the day before, reservation made, and taking almost two hours just to calm himself down, he's so anxious about this whole thing he's actually scared

Fully intended to take you out to dinner! Made all the plans to do so, made sure the place you two were going was good...

But nothing works out for Roger. His luck is kind of horrendous like that

He's wearing his nice suit, and as soon as you two arrive at the restaurant, it's on fire

I wish I was joking, and he also wishes I was joking, but people are evacuating and smoke is pouring out of the kitchen

So what now? You guys could- oh no.

He gets a text while you're trying to figure it out and, as it turns out, there's an emergency at home, too

Peter was having a day with Jack and Dave at home, just a good family + Dave day when Dave kind of accidentally dropped a knife on his foot. Hospitals don't really treat Dave anymore, but he should be fine, but they're out of bandages

Roger's the only one of them not at work so that errand is now his job today

Tense walking to the store, feeling like shit he couldn't take you on a real date, he's stuttering so badly he gives up on talking two minutes into to walk so he just prompts you to start talking

He dearly wishes he could focus on what you're saying, but there's a million thoughts in his head, none of them are good

You make it to the store and walk around for a little while. Dave died years ago, and has died several times since the first time, so he's probably not going to mind the bandages being a few minutes later than they could have been

When you two leave the store, it's starting to sprinkle, and will definitely start raining if you have to walk . . .

He is embarrassed, but the bus is the best option from here, even if it's a shitty option

Sulking half the ride home, when he finally gets the will to speak, it's broken

"I-I-I'm so sorry..."

He wants to cry. He wanted to be your boyfriend so bad, and the whole thing ended up complicated and unpleasant

When you start laughing, he gets even closer to tears, but with a pat on the shoulder and a grin, you fix the whole thing in just one sentence, a whole day of bad luck and dissapointment completely resolved with little more than words

"Shit happens, I'm open to try again tomorrow. We'll go to that other place you like."

Boy if that doesn't perk him right up

Relief, happiness, admiration for your ability to let things roll off you whenever you could, it's a wonderful mix of good feelings

And one of those feelings is some new love

You're a safe place he desperately needs, and he makes a point to have tomorrow go as perfectly as today was supposed to

But, unlike today, he's not nearly as scared